


Everything We Have

by Jenni_Snake



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenni_Snake/pseuds/Jenni_Snake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that Julian dreads his parents meeting Garak, it's just he dreads every moment he has to spend with them.</p><p>(Written for the 2014 Garak/Bashir Valentine's Gift Exchange - other works can be found <a href="http://doctor-tailor.livejournal.com/350691.html?nc=5#comments">here</a>. Read them!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything We Have

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katiemariie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemariie/gifts).



It was almost by accident that Julian came across Garak in his shop, sitting behind the counter, working on an intricate piece of embroidery. Calm, focussed, he looked for all the world as if he had never left, had never returned to the home he had been pining for since before the day they had met, had always been a fixture in this place, for all of time.

“You’re back,” Julian said.

Garak looked up from the stitching in his lap for only a moment.

“You’re still here,” he countered simply.

“Why?” Julian asked with genuine curiosity.

Letting the work drop into his lap, Garak sighed, looking away. He knew the answer, but it was as if, by not having vocalized it until now, he had not allowed it to be true. He swallowed with difficulty before being able to bow to his fate.

“All the goodwill in the universe cannot make up for a lifetime of misdeeds against one’s own people. Nobody wants to make a hero out of a criminal.”

He returned to his stitching, leaving a lull hanging between them, still too used to their games. But the triumph of the doctor’s silence gave him little pleasure.

“And you, my dear doctor,” Garak said softly, “might I enquire as to the wherefores of your continued presence on this station?”

It took only a second before the solemn expression melted from Julian’s face. The crinkles may have folded more heavily at the corners of his eyes, but his youth shone through in his smile.

“Some things never change.”

“Oh, but doctor, so much has changed. Years ago there would have been none of these dispassionate greetings - you would have veritably thrown yourself at me.”

“And you would have made sure that it happened.”

Garak finally returned Julian’s smile. He lost himself in the brightness of his dark eyes.

“Some things never change…”

Garak placed a hand over Julian’s. After just a moment, Julian turned his hand over and wrapped his fingers gently around Garak’s.

“And yet so much has…”

\---

Their first night together was nothing like either of them had ever imagined.

They trampled their awkwardness with the fuel of years of suppressed desire. Their trepidation was defeated by lust, shedding their layers one by one until they stood bare before each other, and stopped.

Finally, through everything, their joy burst forth, and they dissolved in laughter, in tears, could barely kiss for beaming. They passed the night constructing each moment with smiles, with sighs and moans, in and out of one another, unrestrained in each other’s presence. Like twin suns, they orbited one another with a pull so fierce they were nearly one, but still separate entities, their combined light brilliant and blinding. They were beside themselves with delight, and in the end beside each other in calm and in sleep.

\---

From the vantage point of the station, the sun rose distant over Bajor a full hour before its official time on Deep Space Nine. Garak watched as the atmosphere first ignited in white over the gentle curve of the planet, then the soft yellow orb flashed and floated up over the edge, shimmering off the surface of the planet’s oceans, still, like a perfect mirror. Garak held Julian from behind as he watched, placing the occasional kiss on his hair, having learned to enjoy the beauty on his own as Julian stole every moment of sleep that was afforded to him.

It was years since they had united after having reunited, and, even having journeyed so far together, still passed each day on the same station. It wasn’t the life either of them had dreamed, or thought they had dreamed, those nebulous, idolatrous hopes formed for them by others, parents or mentors, who had never sought their counsel in the matter. They rarely reflected on it, but when they did, they realised that those imposed dreams had been replaced by the foundation of contentment that grounded them in their lives and in the life they now shared. They were happy.

The sun was now all but a mellow reflection off the land and water that poked through the cloudy surface of the planet below, which itself was disappearing in a field of stars as the station continued its rotation. Inside the room, the ambient light meant to simulate daytime was dawning slowly. A gentle but persistent sound signalled the alarm to wake, but Julian just moaned, barked a command to shut it off and pulled the covers over his head.

“Time to rise and shine, as I believe I’ve heard you say. Not that you’ll ever find a Cardassian so fond of the morning as to have an idiom for it.”

Julian pulled the covers just below his eyes.

“I’ve _never_ said that,” he protested groggily.

Thinking it over for a moment, Garak conceded.

“In any case,” he said, running his palm down the rivulet of hairs that trickled over Julian’s stomach, “it is time to get up.”

Julian groaned and disappeared again.

“I’m sick. I’ll call and let them know I’m not going in today.”

“Of course you’re not going in today,” Garak parroted, “you’re not scheduled to work.”

There was no movement from Julian for a moment, then he peeked out again, this time more suspiciously.

“Well, then I don’t have to let anyone know. I’ll just stay in bed all day. Don’t worry about me, you need to head to the shop.”

Garak had risen from bed and pulled on a pair of trousers. He reached for a top.

“You know very well that I’m not working today,” he said, buttoning the side of his tunic. The ensemble was a vibrant prussian blue trimmed with slate, like storm clouds over an ocean.

“You’re not?”

“My darling Julian, please don’t take my silence over the past week as ignorance of what you’re trying to hide,” he said, picking invisible flecks of lint off of his sleeve.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Julian lied.

Garak sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as if he were exasperated with a child.

“I really am sick,” Julian tried again, giving a weak cough to support his point.

“Parent-itis?”

The shock on Julian’s face was replaced a moment later with defeat, then with a scowl. He crossed his arms as Garak laid out his clothes on the bed, ignoring his pouting.

“Now you know as well as I do that your parents’ transport docks in half an hour, which gives us just enough time for a glass of tea before we meet them.”

Twenty silent minutes later, Garak left their quarters nervously straightening his suit, Julian skulking behind him.

\---

Despite Julian’s wishes that turned into prayers as the time neared, the transport had neither been cancelled, nor delayed nor rerouted. His father waved at them from the end of the airlock, and Julian ground his teeth. He was accosted with a hug that he barely returned.

He watched cynically as Garak pressed his hands together and bowed to his mother. She, in return, placed her palms upward in front of him. A smile pulled at the corners of Garak’s cheeks as he placed his upturned hands in hers. Julian felt a twinge of regret at not having been up front with Garak about his parents’ short visit, but it soured the instant his father opened his mouth.

“How’s my boy? Busy busy, I’ll wager. Your mother says she barely managed to pin you down for our layover. We’ve got a couple of years of catching up to do. Eight hours is so little time!”

“It’s more than enough,” Julian muttered.

“And is this the Elim Garak you’ve told us nothing about?” asked his father, undeterred.

Garak looked at his feet coyly, even shy. Julian felt himself torn between love and loathing. The only thing he knew for certain was that the next few hours would feel like a lifetime.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Garak said, proffering his hand.

“None of that! It’s Richard,” said Julian’s father, pulling Garak into an embrace, and launching into conversation. “Tell us about yourself, Elim - Amsha said you used to be a gardener. I myself am in landscape architecture. I suppose Julian’s told you ‘all about it,’ am I right?”

As they walked along the promenade, Garak enthralled with his father’s joviality, much to Julian’s bewilderment, his mother fell a step behind to keep pace with her son.

“He’s lovely. Charming,” she said.

Annoyed with the fact that they must have already spoken, Julian just shrugged gloomily.

“Is this the teenage son I never got to know when you shipped off to medical school so young?” Amsha teased. She nudged him playfully on the shoulder, and frowned when he flinched.

“It’s been three years since we’ve seen you. The last thing we heard was a cursory ‘all’s well’ at the end of the war.”

“I was a bit busy,” Julian said tersely.

They walked a moment in relative silence, his father’s voice muted but nearly incessant ahead of them.

“You’ll never hear it from him,” Amsha said finally, “but your father was glued to the reports every day for months. He wouldn’t sit still until he could scan the list of the day’s casualties and not find your name there. And then it would start all over again the day after.”

Risking a glance at his father, he found it difficult to reconcile this cheerful picture with his mother’s story, and his eyes narrowed.

“This is the first time we’ve seen you in five years. If it wasn’t for Elim, we might never have seen you at all. Is everything all right? You seem unhappy…”

“Of course I’m unhappy!” Julian hissed through his teeth, stopping himself short from causing a scene in public.

The subdued outburst painted a pained expression on his mother’s features.

“I was under the impression from Elim that things were going well,” she said, full of concern.

“They are!” Julian shot back. “It’s not him, it’s you!”

“What have we done to embarrass you this time, Jules?” his mother asked, deflated.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a thoughtful moment. “And I’m sorry for the mistakes we made as your parents. And I’m sorry that you are who you are because of them. Or, perhaps, in spite of them.”

There was nothing more to say, so they walked in contemplative silence. Garak was exchanging an anecdote with his father, who laughed and clapped him on the back. The man had spent two years in prison for him without a moment’s hesitation - from guilt, from protectiveness, or, Julian admitted, perhaps in order for him to continue to do the work he had always dreamed of, of which he might never have been capable without his parent’s meddling. Confusion clouded his thoughts, and his internal deliberation was more emotion than reason. When his mother wove her hands around his elbow he didn’t draw away; he covered them with his own instead.

The replimat was nearly empty as they sat at a large, comfortable table, eating and drinking and talking and laughing. Garak would squeeze Julian’s thigh when his father related an embarrassing story about his childhood, though the kiss he pressed to his cheek made him blush more than he already had. Occasionally his parents intertwined their fingers above the table and gazed fondly at each other. With Garak there to help spur the conversation on, Julian found out more about them than he had ever known. Their genuine love for each other, for him, their sincere happiness for _his_ happiness all helped dissolve the image of the devious and conniving famemongers he found he still held onto. With each of his father’s embarrassing stories that Garak found delightful and reciprocated with his own, he saw them for the first time as people.

As the interior lights faded to dusk, and the laughter subsided to quiet contentment, as the remnants of food littered the plates before them and they finished the dregs of their bottles and glasses, Julian wished, for the first time, that his parents didn’t have to leave so soon.

They walked slowly to the airlock, only the station’s strict schedule and the rareness of their connecting transport motivating them forward. With fond embraces they said their farewells. There was a sheen in his father’s eyes even as he brandished a wide smile. He gripped Garak by the shoulder.

“You take good care of him,” he said, then met his son’s eyes. “Take good care of each other. We’ll visit more often...”

Julian didn’t know what to say - his natural reaction to beg them snidely not to didn’t come, but he didn’t know what to offer in its place. He found himself smiling and nodding dumbly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Garak promised.

He and Julian made their way to the port window and watched the stars for a long while even after the transport had disappeared. When they finally turned to each other, they were searching for words.

“Thank you,” Garak said at the same time as Julian offered, “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” Garak said, taking Julian’s hands. “I was glad to meet your family.”

“You _are_ my family,” Julian said, still unable to fully say what he wanted, or fully understand what he meant.

“I’m part of your family,” Garak replied, “and I’m honoured. And… blessed.”

Julian drew Garak’s hands to his lips.

“You forgave me, once, Julian, unconditionally. And we’ve come this far. Perhaps, one day, you might find room in your heart to extend that forgiveness to them as well. Be it by blood or by bonding, family is all we have. It is everything we have.”

At a loss for words, but strangely unperturbed by it, Julian merely wrapped his arms around Garak. They held each other as their world continued its deliberate rotation, the same place it had been a mere twenty-six hours before, and marvelled at how far they had travelled without ever having taken a single step.


End file.
